


We Promised To Take Care Of Each Other

by Redbone135



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:15:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24478570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redbone135/pseuds/Redbone135
Summary: Angst. Slight canon divergence where August never shows up, so Neal is there when Emma finds out she is pregnant. They decide to give Henry his best shot anyway. Follows them from the moment they find out to Emma's 28th birthday.
Relationships: Baelfire | Neal Cassidy/Emma Swan
Comments: 9
Kudos: 46





	We Promised To Take Care Of Each Other

**Before**

“What did it say?” Neal asked anxiously as she peeked her head out of the gas station bathroom, those big blue eyes framed in black rimmed glasses, staring hauntingly back at him.

“Two lines,” she whispered.

“And that means yes?” he asked, “Are you sure? Where is it? Let me see it?”

“I threw it away,” she confessed as he looked both ways and then pushed his way into the little bathroom, shutting the door behind him. 

“You did what?” he asked, “Em, why would you do that?”

“It was gross,” she whispered, looking frightened, he hoped not of him. “I didn’t think you’d want to touch it.”

“Well I can get past gross if it means finding out if I’m going to be a dad or not! Can’t you understand that?”

“Are you yelling at me?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, sinking down against the wall as she sat on the edge of the sink watching him carefully.

Emma didn’t like yelling. He understood why, of course, after everything she’d been through, but it was still hard to remember when Neal’s natural response to panic was to get loud. 

“I’m not yelling,” he assured her, his eyes still squeezed shut. “But I really wish you hadn’t done that.”

“Why can’t you take my word for it?” she said back. “It was positive.”

“Maybe I’d like to see it with my own eyes!” he said, pausing as she shrunk away again. “Sorry, sorry Em, I’m not yelling.”

But it was too late, she was crying now, gripping the sink with both hands to keep the sobs that were racking her body from carrying her over the edge. He stepped up with a heavy sigh, tilting her chin up to look into his eyes. 

Sometimes Neal hated the way that she looked at him. Emma was strong, she was fierce, she was fearless. It was part of why he loved her so much. He’d watched her con men twice her size and three times her age into paying for their meals without batting an eye. He’d watched her argue with cops, when they’d been caught, putting aside logic and reason to shout and deny her way out of trouble while Neal gently tugged on her hand trying to get her to stop. She was brave and clever and that’s why he hated the way she looked at him. 

Because it was always with those soft, fragile eyes that made him feel like he had to be the strong one. He always had to be the strong one, and it wasn’t a job he had signed up for. Sure, he loved Emma, but he got scared and frightened too sometimes, and just once he would have liked it if he didn’t have to bite back his temper and assure her that everything was going to be okay.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promised, wiping a tear off her cheek. “Listen, I’m going to do something I’m not proud of, and you’re not going to judge me, okay?”

She nodded as he dug through the little trash can, trying hard not to think about how gross it actually was, pulling out the little pregnancy test she had wrapped in toilet paper and unwrapping it like a present he didn’t want. 

Two Lines. Pregnant. 

He brought his hand back up to the bridge of his nose, though he really should have washed it first, and tried to sort through thoughts that raced around his head so quickly he couldn’t latch on to them. 

“What do we do now?” he asked, more to himself.

“I think I’m supposed to take another test,” she said, looking at him for the answer. Why on Earth would he know the answer?

“Yeah,” he said, latching onto the idea quickly. False positives were a thing. She needed to take another test. “Yeah, okay, let’s do that. Let’s take another test.”

“I don’t have another test.”

“Don’t they come in packs of like three or something?”

“Not if you open a pack and put one in your pocket so you don’t have to pay for it,” she said icily. “Pregnancy tests are expensive, Neal.”

Throwing every swear he knew in his head, he tossed the little white stick back into the trash and turned back to the door. “You wait there, I’m going to go buy some more.”

“They’re really expensive,” she reminded him.

He turned back to glare at her.

“I think this is something worth spending money on, Em. Like, if ever there was something worth spending money on, this would be it!”

“Are you yell-”

“YES! I’m yelling! And I’m going to go buy a pack, so just wait right the fuck there!”

“Neal,” she whispered from her spot on the sink. “I love you.”

He clenched his jaw, because he heard the desperation in her voice and knew he had pushed too far.

“I love you too baby, we’ll figure this out.”

And they would, because they had promised to always take care of each other.

**Seven Days Later**

Emma was definitely pregnant. Neal was definitely screwed. There was a sort of desperation in watching someone you love pee on a stick like a parole officer waiting for the results of a drug test, that just couldn’t be matched by anything Neal had ever experienced before. 

She had taken three more tests.

And all three came back with the same answer. 

She had laughed, trying to make a joke about how she had never passed so many tests in a row before, that if only she’d been as good at math she might have had her diploma by now. Neal hadn’t found it funny.

He had switched into survival mode almost immediately. Put down two-fifty for a motel for the week, because he felt like they both needed a space to think and talk without worrying about cops or parking permits, but in the end neither one had been able to sleep and neither one really felt like talking.

And, if Emma was pregnant - because Emma  _ was _ pregnant - she probably shouldn’t be sleeping in a car. It was bad for her back or the baby or something. 

He had promised to take care of her, but he hadn’t realized just how hard keeping that promise was going to be. So he looked into their options.

“What’s all this?” she asked as he sat the box of doughnuts down on the table - a carton of milk to wash it down because weren’t pregnant women supposed to avoid caffeine? - surrounded by all the brochures and fliers he had picked up on his morning walk. He’d been up since four, so he’d had plenty of time to pick up brochures and fliers.

“It’s our options,” he told her, opening the box of doughnuts to offer her one fresh from the fryer. “And our breakfast.”

He watched her sort through the papers, stolen from outside of churches and free clinics, names of adoption agencies and doctors written in nice bold print on the front of them. She began to move them into piles, one for the different agencies, and one for the different doctors and looked up at him with that adorable pout that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. 

“Where are the apartment listings?”

“What apartment listings?” he asked around a bite of his own doughnut.

“Well, I see option one,” she said, putting her finger on the first pile, “and I see option two. Where is the third option?”

“I don’t see how an apartment is-” he began, trailing off as he realized what she was saying. “Em, we can’t. I want to, trust me, same as you, but it’s just not possible.”

“I think it’s plenty possible,” she huffed, setting down her doughnut and pushing it back towards him. He wished she wouldn’t do that, starve herself when she was mad at him, it wasn’t good for her. And now it wasn’t good for the baby. “We have the money we got from the watches. It’s enough for a down-payment and more than plenty for the rent. I want to see all my options.”

“Can we talk about these first?” he tried to compromise. 

She pouted, looking down at the papers and then holding up the one for the Planned Parenthood down the street. “Really, Neal? Are you comfortable with this option?”

And no, he hadn’t been. He’d felt kind of upset with himself just picking up the flier. But it was Emma’s body and it was Emma’s choice and before he ruined everything for her he wanted to make sure she had all her options. Even if he couldn’t even say the word in his head, much less out loud to her.

“Okay,” he said, taking the paper out of her hand, crumpling it up and throwing it over his shoulder into the wastebasket. “So that one is out. But look at these.”

He spread the different adoption fliers out in front of her, tapping each one as he rambled. “This one is run by the church, so we know the baby would go to a really good family. And this one says they’ll pay for expenses, like doctors visits and rent and stuff, and this one-”

“I want to keep my baby, Neal.”

He did too, if he was being honest with himself. But he had done a lot of math while walking this morning and he just didn’t see how that was going to work out. 

“Emma, can we just consider this. You can change your mind later. At least let them pay for it now.”

“That’s not fair to those nice people.”

Oh, so  _ now _ she had a problem with stealing.

“Baby, it’s a con, just like any other. A way to get ahead. And who knows, maybe after you meet everyone you’ll feel more comfortable?”

She glared, and he knew this wasn’t about the money, so he changed tactics. 

“You know what I went through, Em,” he began, careful of his wording so as not to set off her lie detector, “My mom left when I was five. She thought she could be a mom, but it’s hard work and it’s not meant for everyone and she couldn’t take it, so she left. And things with my dad… they got bad… you know I left home at fourteen, you know what I went through was rough. This way we can make sure our kid gets a good family who really wants it, right from the beginning. They’ll never feel abandoned.”

“I won’t abandon our kid,” she said, her voice soft and sad, like a kid trying to persuade their parents they could handle the responsibility of a puppy. And that tone, more than anything, was what made Neal so sure that they couldn’t. They were kids. Living out of a car. Subsiding off junk food and cheap coffee without insurance. 

So he played his trump card, and he felt dirty, using it against her, but he had to.

“So we keep the kid, then what? We raise it out of the car? What happens when they start to go to school dirty cause we couldn’t afford a shower that week? What happens when someone calls social services on us because they’re hungry because we couldn’t afford food? And yes, I know we would go without to make sure our kid was taken care of, but Emma, no one is going to let us keep this child. They’re going to rip it away from us and put it in foster care, and then what? You know better than anyone, that’s no place for a kid to grow up. Not when we could give them a stable home and a loving family from the beginning.”

“I hate you,” she hissed, standing up and storming out of the little motel room, slamming the door behind her.

That was fair. He hated himself right now. He should have been more careful. He shouldn’t have gotten her pregnant. He shouldn’t want to keep this kid as much as he did. 

He found her a couple minutes later, sitting outside against the AC unit under the window and crying. 

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she mumbled, as he sunk down beside her, his boots stretched out on the sidewalk, ripped jeans brushing against her knee. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “We can do whatever you want, Em, I don’t want to lose you over this. I love you.”

“We can keep the baby?” she asked through a sniffle.

“Em, do you know it costs about thirty thousand to have a baby, that's all the doctors visits, and tests, and delivery stuff. That’s not even thinking about rent or food, or diapers. It costs thirty thousand, for the bare minimum, and we’ve got twenty.”

She looked at him, but he couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Neal-”

“No, Emma before you say anything I just want to tell you a few facts. And then after that, you can decide what you want and I’ll be there, no matter what. Whatever you tell me, I’ll do it. But can I say my piece first?”

She nodded, taking his hand in hers as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“First: all that matters is us. At the end of the day, I want us to be Neal and Emma, I don’t want us to make any decisions that are going to compromise that. Second: I love you, and I’m going to take care of you. You can make that easy for me, or you can make it hard, but I will always love you and I will always take care of you. Because we promised to take care of each other. And Third: No matter what happens, you and I are going to love this baby so much. We will always want it. We will always do what we think is best for it. Whether it grows up in our arms or someone else's, it will always be our baby.”

Her chin wobbled a little bit and he could tell she was trying not to start crying again.

“Okay, Neal, I think I’m ready to see those fliers now.”

**Seven Months Later**

”You’re doing great, baby,” he assured her as she gripped his hand so tightly he thought he could hear the bones crack and crunch. “Almost there.”

She closed her eyes in pain, and he tried to help her breath through it, knew it was futile because who the fuck was going to remember to breath calmly when they were - the thought just made his stomach clench and he couldn’t finish it. 

The doctor had asked him if he’d wanted to watch, had told him he could stand down by her feet and coach, but Neal had said no to that idea quickly. Despite the obvious reason for not wanting to see that, he knew it wouldn’t be fair.

Emma had decided that she didn’t want to see the baby, it wasn’t their baby to keep, and so she had decided that after it was born she wasn’t going to look. She hadn’t even looked at any of the ultrasounds where Neal had been responsible for collecting the little black and white print-outs to mail back to Henry’s adoptive mother who seemed really excited about the process. And he kind of liked the name Henry that the woman had picked out. It was a nice normal name for a nice normal kid who would probably ride bikes around a cul-de-sac with his friends, and eat ice cream in the summer to keep cool.

So Neal had promised Emma he wouldn’t look, either. Because that was fair. At the end of the day, Henry was leaving, and Neal and Emma would have to live with each other. So he didn’t want to do anything that might drive a wedge any further between them, and if he saw their son and Emma didn’t, that would definitely drive a wedge between them later down the road if she ever changed her mind. 

“One more push,” he said, both hands gripping hers as she screamed out in pain and the noise broke his heart because he had caused her this pain. He had caused her a lot of pain.

“It’s a boy!” the doctor announced, though they already knew that from all the sonograms they’d sent to Henry’s adoptive mother. “Would you like to hold him?”

Neal held his gaze on Emma’s face as she shut her eyes tight, but not tight enough to stop the tears dripping out from under her lashes. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head and keeping his voice calm for her, “We’re good. You should probably go get his mom.”

So he stayed with her through the rest, and it was truly horrific, and he knew he would never be able to leave her now. Not after what they had just gone through together - the cracks in their love being mended by their shared pain. They were all they had in this world, and if even this couldn’t change that, then nothing would. 

More than anything he just wanted to take her home to the little apartment the adoption agency had paid for and begin the healing process together. But that apparently wasn’t allowed, so he had to watch as they cleaned her up and hooked her to a bunch of unnecessary machines and wheeled her down to a private room where he could climb up into the bed with her and hold her against his chest as she passed out with exhaustion from the miracle that didn’t much feel like one today.

And then after she was asleep, and he was sure she wouldn’t find out, he crept down the hallway following signs that ended in a big glass wall.

Henry’s adoptive mom was there, smiling softly into the glass, looking a little startled as he joined her.

“Mr. Cassidy, you’re not changing your mind now, are you?” she asked with concern as he shook his head.

“No, we’re not changing our minds. It’s just… it’s just… which one is he?”

She pointed and Neal took in the sight of his son, in all his squirmy pink glory. He was a healthy little boy, strands of Neal’s dark hair peeking out from under a blue hospital cap, eyes squeezed tight like a newborn puppy.

And just looking at him hurt. Because just like his own father, Neal was abandoning his son. He knew that wasn’t true. He knew he was actually giving his son his best chance. He was making sure that Henry would always feel wanted and loved and cared for. But in his heart he still felt a sick ache that reminded him of swirling green lights and a little boy screaming out ‘Papa!’

“You promise you’re going to take care of him?” he asked through tears he couldn’t hold back, his voice cracking with emotion.

“Of course,” she said, setting a hand softly on his shoulder for comfort. “I’m always going to take care of Henry. You seem upset, Mr. Cassidy. Out of curiosity, why didn’t the two of you want to keep him?”

They had. They really had. But they also wanted him to have his best shot at a good life. This was the best thing they could do for him. 

“Our hands were too full taking care of each other,” he whispered, before turning and heading back to Emma’s room.

**Seven Years Later**

“Emma, are you sleeping?” he asked, staring up at the ceiling in the dark, his mind racing.

“Yes,” she huffed angrily. And that anger hurt because it had been a long time since he’d heard it. He had thought those years were behind them, but now he was scared again, because he had opened that can of worms.

Tallahassee had never happened. Emma hadn’t wanted to go after… The Incident… and so they had settled on a city like Boston that was full of life and distractions so that they always had a place to go when they couldn’t sleep, always had something to do when they didn’t want to be alone with their thoughts and each other.

And it had been hard at first, clinging to each other with love, yes, but in anger and fear too. Words and accusations they couldn’t take back coming out when one or both of them had had just a little too much to drink. Neal had punched his fair share of drywall. And Emma had broken her fair share of his things. But it didn’t matter. Because at the end of the day, Neal could get new things. And Emma was always waiting with neosporin and a band aid for his knuckles. It had been hard, and dark, and there had been moments when both of them wondered if they would ever push past it.

But eventually it got easier. Eventually the darkness faded and they built their lives back, stronger and better than before. They did things that couples their age, with jobs and apartments were supposed to do. They went on vacation together - where Emma could wear a bikini for the first time since… The Incident … and actually feel confident in her skin. Where Neal could lay in the sun and be alone with his thoughts without feeling like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. They went out for nice dinner dates - where Neal had to wear a tie and Emma didn’t recognize half the things on the menu, and they laughed over too much champagne at how silly they felt now that they had money. They played pool on Friday nights after work - sharing a plate of cheesy fries while Emma laughed at him for how bad he was, and he could stand back and admire the view when she leaned over the table to show him how it was done. They filled their apartment with art and furniture that felt like them and spent entire weekends just enjoying the space and the company together.

So eventually, after a few years of the word ‘forever’ feeling less like a curse, Neal decided he wasn’t going anywhere, and he really hoped she felt the same. So he bought a ring, and he drove her two hours out of the city to a county fair, where he bribed the carnie running the ride with a crisp fifty to let them in an hour early so they could sit on the swings and sip at their coffee and he could tell her that if she ever left, he would miss her more than his childhood, more than his father, more than the thing they couldn’t talk about. He told her that he didn’t have the words to express how much she meant to him, but the closest he could get was ‘home.’ She was his home. 

And now they had been married for three years and all their friends thought they were the perfect couple. Because they hardly ever argued, and they always seemed to be on the same page, and they were both really good at putting the other first. And he felt a bit like a liar when their friends asked them for advance on how to maintain such a perfect relationship, but Emma would always take his hand and smile sweetly into his eyes as she answered for them both. “You have to take care of each other.”

It was perfect, their little life, even better than he could have dreamed it would be.

And tonight, he had opened that can of worms, that forbidden topic, and he was really afraid he had ruined it.

“Emma, please,” he begged, tugging on the string of his lamp to bring the whole room back into the bright lights he needed right now, “Can we just talk about this?”

“No.”

“Can you at least tell me why?”

“No.”

“Emma, I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” she said rolling over and he could see the tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe you would ask me to go through that again.”

“I would never ask you to go through  _ that _ again,” he assured her, pulling her tight against his chest as he stroked her hair, “But it wouldn’t be like last time. It’s different now. We’ve got money and a place, we’re married and we’re stable” -at least he had thought they were stable- “And it’ll be different.”

She shook her head, squirming in his arms. “I can’t, Neal. It wouldn’t be fair to  _ him _ .”

“What about us?” he pushed, “What about fair to us? We gave him his best shot, he’s got a great life, and he’s happy now, I’m sure of it. We can’t keep punishing ourselves because of what we went through when we were teenagers. We can’t live our whole lives feeling bad for one mistake we made in the back of a car at seventeen. I want to be a papa, don’t you want to be a mom?”

“No,” she whispered, but the pain in her voice held a different answer. “I can’t be a mom. Not after… Henry.”

And it was the first time she had said his name since giving birth, and so Neal knew she was serious. 

“Okay, baby,” he said, rocking her as she cried, “It’s okay. I understand.”

He tilted her chin towards him, pressing his lips gently to hers as their tears mingled on their cheeks, his hands clutching her as if she were the last thread that kept him from drifting off.

“Neal,” she said, pulling away, “Don’t you think it’s a little inappropriate, right now to be-”

But he kissed her again, rolling her onto her back as he leaned over her, crying and desperate and needing this. 

“That’s exactly why,” he whispered into her hair as their bodies found a rhythm. “I need you, Emma. I need to feel connected to you. If two is all our little family is ever going to be, if it’s just going to be me and you for the rest of forever, I can live with that, but I need you to remind me why.”

And so she kissed him back, pulling him to her with all the strength she had used to push Henry away. And they took care of each other, just like they always did.

**Now**

“Happy Birthday, Em!” he cheered as he heard her kick her heels off in the hall, turning the corner to smile fondly at him.

“Neal, you didn’t!” she laughed, kissing him hello as he fumbled with his lighter to get the little candle on top of the cupcake lit.

“Of course I did, baby,” he laughed, “I haven't missed one of your birthdays since the day I met you, why would I start now?”

“I love you,” she laughed, reaching out to take a fingerful of frosting off the top of the cupcake.

“Woah, wait, woah, no,” he said, hurrying to push her hand away, “You’ve got to make a wish first.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Come on, play along,” he encouraged. “Make a wish, and then blow out the candle.”

She paused, closing her eyes, probably just counting to ten to appease him before leaning in and blowing out the candle.

“Now can I eat the cupcake?” she asked, “I assume this is all the food you got from the grocery store today?”

“I’ve got whipped cream and chocolate sauce in the fridge, but that’s for later,” he said with a small wink, kissing her on the forehead as she split the little cupcake in half and began to pick at it, licking her fingers in a way that made him not exactly want to wait for later. 

The doorbell rang.

“Neal,” she said, rolling her eyes again, “You didn’t invite people over, did you?”

No. He hadn’t.

“Uhm, I don’t think so,” he mumbled, looking off toward the little corner that turned into their front entryway. “Let me go get the door.”

“Hurry back,” she laughed, standing up and heading into their bedroom as she unzipped her dress, “Cause that chocolate sauce idea was starting to sound really good.”

With an eager grin, and newfound determination to get rid of the visitor, Neal swept the aerosol bottle of whipped cream and little squeeze bottle of chocolate sauce out of the fridge into his arm and then hurried down the hallway to tell whoever was interrupting that now was really not a good time. 

He opened the door, but there was no one there.

“Hi!” came an overly chipper voice and Neal was forced to look down to see a kid standing there, smiling up at him as if he wasn’t a complete stranger. “Is Emma Swan here?”

“Yeah…” Neal trailed off, confused for a moment, before he remembered his wife was waiting for him, “But she’s off the clock right now little dude, so whatever business you might have for her, it’s gonna need to wait till the morning. Can I call someone for you? Like your mom? Or a cab?”

“No,” the boy said, looking around Neal completely unfettered. “My name’s Henry. I’m her son!”

Neal’s eyes grew wide, the things in his arm clattering to the ground as the bottle of chocolate sauce exploded, leaving a mess all over the little entryway. But Neal couldn’t even see it, he was too busy staring at the little boy, who was staring back as if Neal had lost his mind.

“Babe, what’s taking so long? Who is it?” Emma asked, rounding the corner in her bathrobe, and stopping to clutch at the neck a little tighter when she saw Neal, and the mess, and the kid.

“Emma,” he said, reaching out to steady her for the news, “This is Henry.”

“I’m you-” the little boy began but Neal cut him off.

“Yeah, yeah, we know. Um, come in?”

But the boy was already inside their apartment, making himself at home as he looked at the books on their shelf, setting down his bag as if he was home. And he was home. Kind of.

Emma yanked on Neal’s arm, tugging him into the bathroom and slamming the door, pacing anxiously as she thought. And Neal stood stock still, unable to move as ten years of emotions churned through his mind, completely paralyzing him.

“What are we going to do?” she hissed.

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. What were they going to do?

Finally, he gathered his voice and offered her the best solution he could come up with on such short notice.

“I don’t know, but I’m kind of liking this hiding in the bathroom all night plan.”

“I’m serious!”

“So was I.”

“Neal, we promised we wouldn’t have anything to do with him. We promised it would be a closed adoption. We… are you smiling?”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re smiling!”

“No, I’m not.”

He brought his hands up to cover his mouth as he continued, aware she could still hear the grin in his voice. “ _ He _ found  _ us _ , Emma.  _ He _ wants something to do with  _ us _ . We’re not breaking any promises. This could be our chance to get to know our son.”

“He is not our son,” she said, tugging his hands away from his face and kissing him gently, “For all we know this could be some con job by someone who knows about… The Incident… and is trying to trick us out of money.”

“Maybe,” Neal conceded. “But we’re not going to find out in here, are we?”

They emerged to find the kid going through their fridge, pulling out a bottle of orange juice and drinking it straight from the bottle, just the way Emma always yelled at Neal for doing.

“How did you get here, kid,” Neal asked, gripping Emma’s hand tightly because she was shaking a little. “How’d you find us?”

“I stole my teacher’s credit card,” he said cheerfully, waving it around in front of his face.

“So… he’s definitely our kid,” Neal said, turning to see an annoyed look on Emma’s face. “Sorry, that was probably really inappropriate. Um, it’s just, what are you doing here?”

“I want you guys to come home with me. Back to Storybrooke.”

“No,” Emma said quickly. “We should call the cops.”

“I wouldn’t,” the kid shrugged, “I’ll just say you kidnapped me. I mean, you are my birth parents after all.”

“Then we should call his mom,” she said, turning expectantly to Neal.

“What? You think I have her number? Yeah, I programmed it right into my cell phone on the worst, most complicated, day of my life, next to the doctor’s that delivered him and the landlady’s that kicked us out a month later.”

“You don’t have to call my mom,” Henry said, breaking the tension that was building between them, “I’ll tell you where I live. You just have to take me back is all.”

Emma and Neal exchanged a glance.

“I’ll get my keys,” he said with a shrug as she went back into their bedroom to get dressed. 

When they got to the car, Emma had to stop him from climbing into the backseat with Henry, a glare in her eye as she reminded him, “You’re driving.”

And Henry, much like his father, turned out to be a chatterbox. He had all sorts of questions about them - which they had expected. About stopping for food - which had prompted a quick argument between Emma and Neal. And about a story book which he had spread out across his lap.

“I wish he’d stop,” Emma mumbled, looking out the passenger window. 

Neal chuckled. He thought it was cute.

“-And all the stories are real! All the people live in Storybrooke! There’s Snow White and Prince Charming and Rumpelstiltskin-”

Less cute.

“Who wants some music, eh?” Neal asked, turning up the radio as his heart began to pound. 

He’s just a kid. It’s just his imagination. No need to panic over something that isn’t real, Neal assured himself. But after eleven years together, Emma knew her husband pretty well, and she could tell that something had struck a nerve so she turned around to face the kid. 

“Henry, would you mind giving us a second to think. This is all just a little much, and I think we might need some time to process it…”

The boy trailed off, and they settled into the comfortable, meaningless noise of the radio as they watched trees and street signs pass them by. The GPS said it was going to take four hours.

Fortunately Emma and Henry passed out pretty quickly after that and Neal was left alone with his thoughts of fairy tales and long lost family and the overwhelming urge to turn the car around and go AWOL with Emma and their son. But he wouldn’t be able to explain that to Emma, not logically at least, and as excited as Henry was to see them, Neal doubted he’d be too excited to wake up in another state with new parents who refused to give him back.

So when he pulled up outside the address Henry had given them, and boy was it a nice house, at least Henry hadn’t had to grow up wanting for things, he gently shook Emma awake with a kiss.

“Hey, baby, why don’t you go bring him back to his mom, I’ll head down the street and get us checked into the bed and breakfast.”

“I know what you’re doing Neal. How about you bring him back to his mom and I’ll wait in the car.”

“Emma-”

“No, Neal,” she hissed.

“Come on. It’s your birthday. Think of it as a little vacation. I’ll call out of work sick. It’s a cute town. We’ll go shopping on Main Street and hiking in the woods. I’ll buy you breakfast and-”

“Get to know our son?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind hearing a few more of his stories… Fine, baby, but it’s too late to drive back tonight. Let’s get a room and then we’ll leave in the morning, okay?”

“Just one night.”

“Just one night,” he repeated as she got out of the car, tapping on Henry’s window to startle him awake.

“Bye kiddo,” he said with an enthusiastic wave.

“Take care!” Henry offered back and Neal’s heart fluttered.

Because he knew it wouldn’t just be one night.

Take care. Of each other. 


End file.
